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He who would not be idle, let him fall in love.

Ovid

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Ovid
Author
Elegist
Mythographer
Poet
Writer
Publius Ovidius Naso
P. Ovidius Naso
Fall
Would
Love
Indolence
Idle

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Take away leisure and Cupid's bow is broken
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Envy, slothful vice, Never makes its way in lofty characters, But, like the skulking viper, creeps and crawls Close to the ground.
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If Jupiter should hurl a bolt whenever men sin, His armory would quickly be empty.
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What is now reason was formerly impulse or instinct.
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Venus favors the bold.
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I shall speak facts but some will say I deal in fiction.
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A light breath fans the flame, a violent gust extinguishes it.
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What is hid is unknown: for what is unknown there is no desire. [Lat., Quod latet ignotum est ignoti nulla cupido.]
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Love is too prone to trust. Would I could think My charges false and all too rashly made.
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What is without periods of rest will not endure.
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The mind ill at ease, the body suffers also.
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Wine, not too much, inspires and make the mind,to the soft joys of Venus strong inclined,which, buried in excess, unapt to love,stupidly lies and knows not hom to move
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The end doesn't justify the means.
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Time itself flows on with constant motion, just like a river: for no more than a river can the fleeting hour stand still. As wave is driven on by wave, and, itself pursued, pursues the one before, so the moments of time at once flee and follow, and are ever new.
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Heavens! what thick darkness pervades the minds of men. [Lat., Pro superi! quantum mortalia pectora caecae, Noctis habent.]
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Either you pursue or push, O Sisyphus, the stone destined to keep rolling. [Lat., Aut petis aut urgues ruiturum, Sisyphe, saxum.]
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Man should ever look to his last day, and no one should be called happy before his funeral. [Lat., Ultima semper Expectanda dies homini est, dicique beatus Ante obitum nemo et suprema funera debet.]
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By arts, sails, and oars, ships are rapidly moved arts move the light chariot, and establish love. [Lat., Arte citae veloque rates remoque moventur Arte levis currus, arte regendus Amor.]
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That tuneful nymph, the babbling Echo.
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What one beholds of a woman is the least part of her.
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